Dear Roger
by dislexic-girl
Summary: Mark need someone while Roger is in rehab... he gets a notebook. Rated T for drugs, suicide and others.
1. Dear Roger

Roger frowned at the notebook in his hand.

They'd been putting everything back in its place for two days now ,ever since Benny gave them their stuff back.

And now, there he was, sitting on his bed watching this notebook, that had been in one of his boxes… but it wasn't his. He didn't remember it as his… it looked more like a journal than a lyrics book.

Shrugging, he opened it on the first page and his frown grew deeper.

It was Mark's handwriting, and it was dated a year back, while he was still in rehab…still, it was addressed to him.

He checked that Mark was not near his room, and started reading. It wasn't invasion of privacy… it was addressed to him after all.


	2. Hey

Hey man...

It sound too… I don't know, my other option was Dear Roger so I'm still out on that one ... call it journal or scrapbook or diary or letter?  
Anyway, I'm not sure they could be called letter... letters are written messages that will be delivered to someone else...and I'm not sure I'm gonna give this to you... I need to write. I need to let some of the shit in my head out because otherwise I feel I'm gonna explode… And I think I owe it to you, to record some of the things you're missing… those things I can't get on tape… those things I can't talk to you about now…

Ok, so we took you to rehab yesterday. The look of hate in your eyes made me question the decision. The angry words Collins said were coming from "junkie roger" still hurt. I do love you, Roger. I really tried not to do anything to hurt you. I wasn't trying to take you out of my life, and I will be here when you decide to come back. And I'm gonna help you stay clean and move on.

Everything was ok for a while… everything was in place and we were doing ok, weren't we? It wasn't just an illusion, was it?  
We had food and love and friendship. We were as creative as we could get… and then Heroin came in to play.  
I'm angry… I'm so angry at you and her and me! You knew you could come to us, roger! You knew we would help you! You knew I would at least… and everything just slipped off my hands…  
I just never thought…I was so stupid and so blind… I saw you guys losing weight and I saw the track marks and I saw the gaunt sick appearances…and I never said anything.  
My mom used to tell me when I was a kid that I could fix everything in life, except death. And I couldn't fix anything… and then April died… and everything else followed suit.

Benny moved out. He was packed and ready to go when we came back from locking you up in rehab. He yelled and I yelled and Collins yelled. And then he was gone. Gone to Muffy and her fortune. That fucker got seduced by money and stability.  
Collins left early today. Classes to teach, minds to feed he said. More like degenerate. He said he'll be back at the end of the term. We'll see…  
And then, Maureen. She hasn't been dropping by a lot. She says she's staying with a friend. I don't know. I don't have the energy to worry about that right now.

There's a hollow ache. When I breathe and when I go to sleep and when I try to eat .There's a hollow ache I've come to associate with grief. Like I'm walking around complety torn and broken and no one see it. I can feel it and no one else acknowledges it. It's like life goes on for everyone else and I'm stuck in this painful reality where I have no one around. My best friend is in rehab, her girlfriend is dead, my other good friends are far away and my girlfriend won't come around to hold me. Where I am alone.

I haven't processed anything yet I guess. I'm concentrating all my energy on breathing in and out all day long. I remind myself to eat every once in a while.  
But reality stays the same… just outside my consciousness. You're getting clean from heroin and when you come back, you're gonna be living with HIV and mourning a girlfriend. I'm mourning April, a future without friends and I still have to think of a life after all this.

I used to think we had it good. Now I think I have to make it good.  
I'll be by to see you in a few days… when hopefully you won't try to hit me again. I know you'll get through this. I know, cause we're not giving you any other option. Take care.


End file.
